“T HANK YOU FOR COMING,” M ARAH SAID, as she and Jenny walked down the path to town. “I wanted company.”
Jenny nodded, her pretty face – framed with blonde curls – unreadable. Marah couldn’t tell if Jenny was pleased to be invited, irritated at having to accompany Marah, or somewhere in between. There was a social gulf between them that Marah was sure shouldn’t be there… Marah had no idea where and when Jenny had been born, but if she was a house servant, there couldn’t be that much difference between them. Jenny might have even been be higher up the social scale than herself, given that she’d had a relatively cushy job in a city while Marah had grown up in a mining village. Marah didn’t really want to know. They were equals, in a way, and that was all that mattered.
She cocked her head, a mannerism she’d picked up from Emily. “Are you enjoying being out here?”
“It’s different, My Lady,” Jenny said.
“You don’t have to call me My Lady ,” Marah said, gently. The whole idea of anyone calling her by any honorific was just absurd. She was hardly a lady . And besides, she loathed the idea that birth – or magic – put anyone ahead of anyone else by default. Jenny didn’t have to bow and scrape in front of her. Marah had spent enough time working for Madame Rosemont that it was hard to feel entitled to anything. “Just Marah.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Jenny said.
Marah sighed, inwardly. She didn’t own the tower. She didn’t even have a proper apprenticeship, or the magical education she needed to be given an aristocratic title by default. Jenny didn’t have to call her anything, not after Marah had done much the same work herself… probably. Jenny certainly seemed to be better at it than Marah had ever been, although no one could’ve met Madame Rosemont’s demanding standards. She kept them high so she’d have an excuse to punish her lone worker. Marah hoped the wretched woman was dead. Her stepfather might well have lied about Madame Rosemont demanding her money back…
Her heart twisted. She staggered, as if she’d been hit. She’d gone into Lord Allenstown’s mansion and fought her way out, she’d battled street kids and even poured boiling oil over Madame Rosemont’s lecherous husband, but her stepfather… she’d frozen as the man approached, fear keeping her paralyzed even though she had enough raw magic to stop him in his tracks. Or… if Emily hadn’t been there, she dreaded to think what would have happened. The man had broken her so badly she couldn’t muster the nerve to lash out at him. It wasn’t fair.
Jenny kept walking, unaware of Marah’s thoughts or unwilling to face them. Marah was almost relieved. Emily’s probing questions had hurt too, if only because it was impossible someone like her could really understand. Virgil had never asked Marah any questions, choosing to let her tell him what she wished… she was glad of that, even though he’d betrayed her. Emily… she was strange. Marah didn’t understand Emily, and she feared she never would, no matter how much time they spent together. Marah just couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
She calmed herself with an effort and walked after Jenny, sensing flickers of magic in the air as the valley widened, allowing them to walk down into Zugzwang. The town was so different from Lubbock it was hard to look at it, even though both settlements were deep within the mountains. Lubbock had been a grimy town, so coated in dust it looked centuries old; Zugzwang was clean, cheerful, and almost untouched by the modern world. A river flowed through Zugzwang, passing through a lake below the town before heading down to the sea. She saw a handful of boats on the water and felt torn between envy and fear. She’d never learnt to swim.
The path widened again, the town seeming to spring at them. Marah blinked in surprise as she realized a handful of houses were carefully designed to blend into the foliage, making them very hard to see until she was right on top of them. Others were more obvious… she spotted a handful of children, boys and girls alike, kicking a ball around as if they hadn’t a care in the world. She felt another flash of envy. She’d never known that sort of freedom. The girls in Lubbock had rarely been allowed to go outside by themselves, at least until they were old enough to marry or work. Here… Zugzwang looked happy and prosperous and safe .
Jenny glanced at her. “Where do you want to go?”
Marah hesitated. There hadn’t been much to do in Lubbock, besides drinking, and she knew better than to let herself get drunk. What else was there? Valetta had public baths and restaurants and shops, but… she had never spent much time there either. She didn’t have the slightest idea where she should go…
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Where should we go?”
Jenny gave her an unreadable look. “I need to shop, for the kitchens,” she said. “You can come with me, if you like.”
Marah nodded and allowed Jenny to lead her into the butcher’s shop. It was a far cry from the company owned stores in Lubbock, where it was better not to ask questions about where the meat came from or just how it was preserved during the move to the town. The meat looked fresh and healthy, and the butcher clearly knew his stuff; his apprentice chopped up the meat, piece by piece, as his master haggled with Jenny over the price. Marah had to admit, Jenny was a good haggler – it was almost as if she were a different person – as they finally reached an agreement, then put the meat aside to be picked up on the way home.
“That was impressive,” Marah said, as they left. “Where did you learn to bargain like that?”
“I had to buy food for my old mistress,” Jenny said, flushing. “She was… quite demanding. I had to learn to haggle and drive as hard a bargain as possible.”
Marah winced. Virgil had once told her that most aristos didn’t bother to ask the price of anything. They just threw money at the seller and took it. She had seen enough, during recon missions for the underground, to believe it was true. And yet, Jenny’s mistress had been harsh enough to count every penny…? Poor girl.
She frowned, suddenly. “Does Emily make you haggle?”
“Lady Emily told me to use my own best judgement,” Jenny said, a hint of tartness in her voice. “Trying to save her money is part of my duties.”
Marah blinked, unsure of why Jenny was already so loyal to Emily. They had barely even known each other more than a handful of days, and yet… Virgil had told her that some servants considered themselves part of the family, a sentiment that was rarely returned by the family itself, and acted accordingly. They were deluding themselves, of course, but it was important to remember that they believed it. She sighed, puzzled. What was she missing?
She kept the thought to herself as they passed through a grocer and a pair of magical stores that offered everything from cauldrons and staffs to charmed objects and potions. She caught herself eying a wand and bit her lip hard, despite the temptation to buy it and stow it in her pocket for a rainy day. She might need it… no. She tasted blood as she turned away, choosing to wait outside as Jenny haggled over a handful of supplies. The air was warm and fresh, so different from Lubbock it brought tears to her eyes. If she’d grown up here…
Her heart twisted, painfully, as she saw a pair of girls heading out of a nearby house. They were little older than she was, wearing outfits that suggested their father was a merchant… or even that they were merchants… and yet, there was something about them that tore at her heart. It took her a moment to understand what she saw. They were happy and safe, so unlike the girls of Lubbock… or even Valetta. They didn’t glance around covertly, as if they expected to be attacked at any moment; they weren’t escorted by their male relatives, as if they couldn’t be trusted alone… she blinked away angry tears as Jenny joined her, carrying a small bag under her arm. It wasn’t fair. Why were these girls so safe, so secure, when she had never been?
“We can eat over here,” Jenny said, leading the way to a small inn. “The food is good – and plentiful.”
Marah hesitated, unwilling to show her reluctance. The inn was homely, and yet her aversion to going anywhere near a drinking den was almost impossible to overcome. She wanted to say no and yet, she was reluctant to say anything of the sort. Jenny pushed the door open and stepped inside, without waiting. Marah shrugged and followed her into a large chamber, with mercifully clear air. She had no idea what the drunkards had been drinking or smoking back home, but the air in the bars had been so awful it made the rest of the town smell positively pleasant.
The innkeeper – a jovial fat man – waved cheerfully to them. “Take a table,” he said, waving to a handful of empty wooden tables. “And help yourself from the buffet.”
Marah glanced around. The buffet lay on a long wooden table – cold meats, cheeses and breads, potatoes in white dressing, vegetables and sauces – just waiting to be eaten. The inn itself was empty… she glanced at the clock and realized they were probably a little too early. The lunch hour might be still some time away. The innkeeper didn’t seem bothered.
“There are plates over there,” Jenny said, as they claimed a table by the window. “Take what you want, but eat what you take.”
Marah nodded, curtly. She had no idea how some eaters could be fussy. Back home, she had had to eat what she was given or starve. She’d never really understood just how poorly she’d been fed until Virgil had started feeding her properly, and even then… she shook her head, took a plate, and piled it high with samples of everything on offer. She had no idea what the purple sauce next to the pork was, or how the salad in cream tasted, but she wanted to find out. It would be something different…
The landlord came over to the table, carrying two glasses of cloudy liquid. “Lemonade,” he said, placing them on the wood. “Freshly made, without even a drop of alcohol.”
Marah’s eyes narrowed. They hadn’t ordered drinks. “How much do we owe you?”
She couldn’t keep the suspicion out of her voice, but the landlord seemed unconcerned. “They’re on the house, as is the food,” he said. “Anything, for the sorcerer’s apprentices.”
The sorcerer? Marah was fairly sure Emily was a lady . Who does he think we are?
“I’m Lady Emily’s apprentice,” she said. It didn’t feel quite real , even as she put it into words for the first time. “Why…?”
The landlord bowed, a deep, sweeping motion that felt more genuine than anything she’d seen from the nobility. “There has always been a sorcerer up there,” he said, nodding towards the mountains. “And that sorcerer has always kept the town safe.”
“I don’t understand,” Marah admitted. “Why…?”
“The former sorcerer was powerful enough to tell an army to go to hell, and make it stick,” the landlord explained. “His apprentice has now taken his place, protecting the valley. We will do everything we can for her, because she keeps us safe.”
He nodded to the buffet. “Eat all you want,” he added. “It’s on the house.”
Marah felt oddly uncomfortable as the landlord turned and hurried away. She wasn’t sure where the town was, in relation to the rest of the world, but… it wasn’t an island. The idea of a sorcerer powerful enough to protect the town… her heart twisted as she realized Emily must be powerful enough to give an invading army a very hard time. She’d beaten necromancers . Most armies would give her a very wide berth, rather than risk facing someone who could destroy them. No wonder the town was so safe and tranquil. They had a powerful protector.
She ate her food slowly, barely tasting it as she tried to think through the implications. If Emily could protect one town, simply by being there, what about others? Why not change the entire world? She could make things better for everyone . Marah was grateful for what Emily had given her siblings and step-siblings, but… why not the entire town? She was powerful enough to make the company change its ways…
They want to keep her happy, to make sure she stays here , Marah realized. A nasty thought crossed her mind. Does Emily even know it?
She pushed the thought out of her mind and ate slowly, savoring every bite. The meats ranged from bland, carefully cooked to bring out the flavor, to seasoned with every flavor under the sun. Her heart ached as she chewed beef and mustard, chicken and potato salad, a strange mixture of emotions running through her heart. Zugzwang was safe and prosperous because it was protected, by a protector who could turn nasty at any moment or simply walk away. It wasn’t right. The town shouldn’t need a protector. But it did.
The chamber filled slowly as the day ticked on. Marah studied the diners thoughtfully, noting how they all seemed happy and prosperous. They were a mix of male and female – including some women clearly dining alone – chatting together as equals even though their clothes suggested they were from different occupations. Zugzwang was too small for a guild, she guessed, let alone the guilds that veered between being very good for their members and downright terrible. There were probably no fights here, she noted. The drinking certainly wasn’t excessive.
“Welcome to Zugzwang,” a well-dressed merchantwoman said. “I hope you’ll be staying long.”
Marah had no time to think of a response as a handful of others welcomed her. It felt strange, almost uncomfortable; she told herself, firmly, that they were thinking of Emily rather than her. She wasn’t important, not to them. It was her mistress they liked… she finished the last of the lemonade, hid a coin under the plate for the innkeeper’s daughter, then stood and led the way out of the inn. She hoped the innkeeper wouldn’t steal the coin… here, perhaps, he wouldn’t. The child would need a nest egg of her own when she reached marriageable age.
Jenny caught her eye. “Where would you like to go now?”
“I’d like to see the rest of the town, before we go home,” Marah said, although in truth she wasn’t sure of anything. Valetta had been astonishing, but far from perfect. Zugzwang was practically paradise. And yet, it was built on sand. Emily could leave, if angered, or on a whim. “What else is there?”
Jenny shrugged and led her around the town. The lake was larger than she’d thought, with a handful of small fishing boats bobbling on the water. Marah was tempted to ask for a ride, but after what she’d seen in the inn, she feared the fishermen would feel obliged to do it. Instead, they crossed the bridge over the outflow and made their way around the lake, pausing long enough to pick up their purchases before heading back to the tower. Marah insisted on carrying a fair share of the goods, despite Jenny’s objections. Madame Rosemont had always insisted on Marah carrying everything, and she’d hated it.
She stopped as they reached the entrance to the valley and looked back. Zugzwang really was nothing like Lubbock, a thought that tormented her so much she was tempted to turn away completely and never go back. Her family hadn’t had to live in a grimy hellhole, breathing in so much coal dust it had to be hurting them, and the company hadn’t had to keep them chained to the mines with debt and alcohol. It could have been better, if only the company had given a damn. It could have been better for the company, too, if the debt slaves had wanted to work. But things had been too hopeless for that…
Jenny kept walking, passing through the wards and hesitating – oddly – before entering the tower and heading down to the kitchens. Marah followed her, carrying the rest of the supplies. She couldn’t help thinking that Jenny had already made the kitchens her own, organizing them so she could do her work with the minimum of effort. It looked a hell of a lot better than Madame Rosemont’s kitchen, without food waste on the floor or insects crawling around. Marah had seen enough, when she’d been there, that she wouldn’t have willingly eaten those meals on a bet. It was a minor miracle the wretched woman hadn’t poisoned everyone before she’d had Marah to do the cleaning.
Emily met her as she made her way up to the library. “Did you have a good time?”
“Yes,” Marah said. She wanted to talk about what the innkeeper had said, but she had no idea how to approach the subject. “You’re very popular down there.”
Emily colored, lightly. “I’ve been asked to go to Zangaria,” she said. “Would you like to come with me?”
Marah suspected it wasn’t really a question. “Yes,” she said. She’d never seen Zangaria, although she’d heard a great deal about the northern kingdom. She was curious to see if it lived up to its reputation. “When can we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning, after breakfast,” Emily said. “Go pack. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, My Lady,” Marah said.